


Up and Gone

by PastelLimes



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket, All the Wrong Questions - Lemony Snicket
Genre: F/M, Go find a happier fic, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Kinda Comfort, Lemony doesn't know how to MOVE ON, Moxie is heartbroken and represses her emotions, Non-Explicit Sex, One Night Stands, One Shot, This is not Happy, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 09:15:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13210635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastelLimes/pseuds/PastelLimes
Summary: He kissed her back through his tears, shed for a woman Moxie could never be.





	Up and Gone

_**up and gone** _

They were both adults, grown up, still miserable and upset, distraught over their dismal childhoods, unsafe jobs, disconnected connection. Lemony Snicket was distant, ever fading away as adulthood ate him away, the loss of his love and the gain of his new solemn duty plaguing him until he flopped onto her bed in pure dismay, begging her to relieve the pain. Moxie Mallahan was placid, still playing with her business card that rest upon her ‘a’ shaped hat, and found it hard to find any other emotion than pity, guilt and raw, unreleased love as she straddled Lemony’s side with her thighs, pressing her lips against his until she was numb in the heart. 

He kissed her back through his tears, shed for a woman Moxie could never be. 

They were both adults, yet despite the will of the world and society, they were a tangled heap of lost childhood dreams, diluted emotions and a spread-thin expanse of will to keep moving. It was odd, to have the sensation of flesh on flesh and witness the bliss of the human body. Touch-starved individuals coming together to whisper sin and sing their miseries in the form of moans, groans, and cries for love. Moxie released her tightly knit emotions like a wave against a beaten shore. Lemony sobbed another name into the crook of her neck, spit and tears dampening her skin, giving her goosebumps. The typist did not process the woman’s title, but when Lemony choked out the woman’s name, Moxie found herself shuddering against Lemony’s tree-like frame. It was just another reminder he did not love her. Anymore or at all, it did not matter. 

Underneath them, the springs of her bed squealed like a pig being beaten for more tricks. There was no more love, only the necessary need to be rid of pain and the desperate desire to feel loved, cherished and equally desired. Moxie abhorred her weakness for the Snicket who refused to acknowledge her as more than what she truly was. Lemony wept into the sheets for the woman who left him for another man and then eventually left the sweet hug of the earth. All was forgotten and all was remembered. 

They were both adults in the morning, with all the signs of their sad, miserable night still evident, present. Lemony faced the window covered by loose gray drapes. Moxie was pressed against his back, aimlessly tracing shapes he knew into his scarred bicep. When he moved and sat up, exposing his bare back to her, Moxie’s gray-blue eyes trailed up his spine, following the curves of his vertebrae until she was staring at the shell of his ear and the wisps of black hair that curled towards his temple. She could feel his abyss-deep frown permeate the room, flooding it until Moxie had to gasp near the ceiling to catch an inhale of pure air. 

He bent at his waist and grabbed his shed clothes from her wooden floor. With his pale hands, nearing the color of milk, Lemony tugged and shoved on his clothes from last night, still emitting the scent of loss, ash and an attempt to fix a broken heart. Moxie watched him with sad eyes as he grabbed his tie from her bed stand in a flash. His face was grim, hollow. She parted her lips to speak, to say something, but no words came out, only silence and empty space. Lemony barely turned to look at her once he reached the doorway. 

“I’m sorry, Moxie.” Those words hung in Moxie’s bedroom like a mist, knee-high. She was an adult when she threw back the sheets and hastily put on her underwear and buttoned up her blouse from last night. With urgency, Moxie descended her staircase, chasing Lemony. He made it to the door, hand on the knob, ready to escape when she reached the first floor, lips parted with breath.

“Then don’t go.” She pleaded softly, completely out of character for her. Moxie Mallahan was not the pleading type. Lemony Snicket was not the listening type. With one last, lingering look, Lemony placed his bowler hat upon his head and fled the flat. The door closed behind him, leaving Moxie to stand alone, with no trace that Lemony was ever there until she received his request to become the Editor. 

Lemony Snicket was up and gone. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is sad. And written in like forty minutes but I had the idea and quickly wanted to get it down :")   
> Thanks for reading!!
> 
> ~PastelLimes


End file.
